Chores
by pink.chocolaTe.polikjum
Summary: HP/DM short SLASH fic. Harry found an interesting way to do his chores. -More warnings inside-


_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content/language._

_So... the strangest things pop into my mind when I let it wander. I was loading the dryer and BAM! this popped in my head. I haven't a clue why, probably because I've thought about doing it myself a time or two, but it always seems to occur to me during winter and when I'm so totally not going to follow through. Too cold. This is gonna be a short little Harry/Draco piece; pre-existing relationship, basically PWP and most likely rather silly. _

_Warnings: (Man-on-man) slash, smut, language and manly giggling._

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

Draco sighs happily, relieved and ridiculously thrilled to just be _home_, and sets his padded case on the dining room table with a soft 'thump'. He takes a few more steps and pauses, cocking his head and listening for his fiancé. His brows pinch slightly when he hears thumping and a muffled grunt from on of the other rooms. Slowly, he makes his way towards the noise, cautiously listening the entire time as mumbled curses and a soft metallic slam sounds. His face breaks out into a grin, unable to help himself, when he hears another curse muttered by his temperamental fiancé. As he reaches the doorway, he stops suddenly, blinking rapidly at the sight before him.

Harry.

Standing completely naked.

In the laundry room.

Feeling someone behind him, Harry turns his shoulders to look behind him and grins at a stunned Draco. He doesn't say anything yet, fighting off a flush at being ogled so damn hard it makes his skin tingle pleasantly. It certainly isn't the first time he finds himself completely naked in front of the man, far from it, but he still can't help reacting to the intense gaze. Giving up on fighting the urge to squirm, he focuses back on his task, standing on his tiptoes (and giving Draco a fantastic view of his muscles flexing) to put the detergent away. He turns again, rolling his eyes this time at the very distracted blonde.

Draco tries not to gape. It's hard though, mostly just from pure surprise. He stifles a soft moan as his eyes firmly stay glued to Harry's arse, a delicious little dimple marring the perky arse cheek from the way he's turned. "Uh..."

"Hey," Harry says, turning around fully, gracing Draco with a full-on view of his naked body. He is still a bit flushed but it's definitely from pleasure now. "What's up?" he asks, as if he isn't standing in their laundry room completely starkers -like it's a normal, everyday occurrence. On the plus side, Draco's sudden appearance has made him completely forget the pain in his toe from viciously stubbing it earlier as he hopped around clumsily, taking his jeans off. He rests his hands on his hips at Draco's lack of response and nearly lets out a very unmanly giggle at his blank-faced lover. He had never seen the blonde look so… vacant before. It isn't like Draco hasn't seen him naked before…

Draco blinks, his eyes nearly drying out from remaining open so long. "What the hell are you doing?" he finally asks, amused more than anything. His eyes finally coming up to meet amused green ones and he nearly pouts to be the source of amusement. But, honestly, if Harry started doing all the mundane household chores naked, he'd never complain again about the lack of house-elves. Hell, he might even help out more often. Maybe. He licks his lips, watching as Harry's chest muscles ripple and bunch languidly with a laugh.

"Laundry," Harry answers, his tone slow and full of '_duh_', waving a hand around the small space.

Draco rolls his eyes and leans against the doorjamb, crossing his arms and ankles casually. "I gathered. Why are you naked?" he asks, his curiosity at its peak. It's so odd; welcomed, but odd.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Harry says with a shrug. "Really," he stresses at Draco's raised eyebrow. He knows what that means; Draco's thinking him daft. Git. "I mean... any other chore is done the moment you vanish the last bit of dirt or wash the last plate. But there's always _more_ laundry! I mean, you're wearing something all the time!" he explains, throwing his hands up and smirking when Draco's eyes roam his body. He'd be annoyed that Draco probably hasn't heard a word he said but really... he would be doing the same thing if the positions were reversed. (Er... not that Draco does laundry.) Draco could ask for his organs for a potion and he'd happily agree if the blonde asked while completely naked. "So, I figured, if I toss in the clothes I was wearing, it would be all of them and finally! Completely done laundry!" he finishes, sounding rather proud of himself, his hands back on his hips in a triumphant pose. It was only slightly ruined by being completely nude. Honestly, there is only so much dignity one can have in some situations with your bits hanging out.

Draco hums thoughtfully and gracefully unfolds himself, moving into the room. Carefully measured steps have him stopping a foot away from Harry. "You're completely mental, you know that, right?" he asks, the corner of his lips turning up slightly in a smile. It's rather convoluted but oddly sound logic; not at all a complete surprise when one deals with Harry James Potter.

"No, I'm a genius," Harry says firmly. "Who else has thought of that?"

Draco can only shrug; he hasn't a clue. He doesn't care either. "I haven't a clue, love," he says lazily. He steps closer and rests his hands on Harry's firm chest, his fingers flexing ever-so-slightly against the firm warmth. "So, that's why you're standing here, ever so tempting, completely naked? You're doing _laundry_?"

"Well... yeah. Why else would I be in here?" Harry asks, that '_duh_' tone back in his voice as he looks around the small room. It's too small to fit anything more than a Muggle washer, dryer and a tiny shelf for laundry odds-n-ends.

Draco rolls his eyes, slapping at Harry lightly. "You can be so thick sometimes..." he says with fond amusement.

"I'm in the laundry room, in front of the working washing machine and you ask me what I'm doing… how am _I_ the thick one?"

Draco sighs and leans down to kiss Harry gently. "Shut up, Harry," he says softly and presses their lips together again, a thrill shooting through him as he presses against Harry's naked body. He grins against Harry's lips when he hears a soft moan and slides his hands up into Harry's hair, tugging on the black messy locks gently. "There's still some laundry…" he murmurs, trailing off suggestively.

"Nuh uh, I got all of it and… Oh!" Harry gasps, finally catching on. He doesn't waste any more time and quickly strips Draco of his clothes, tossing everything into the washer and letting the lid slam back down with another soft metallic 'thud'. "Ahhh, I can't tell you how accomplished I feel," he says proudly, unable to contain the giggles at Draco's annoyed expression. Merlin, he hates giggling like some girl but sometimes he can't help it. Like now! Who would be able to contain their giggles at the pissy Malfoy face? No one, that's who.

Draco quickly turns, pinning Harry against the washer and smirking when he shrieks as his flesh hit the cool metal. The shriek isn't a pleasant sound but it's slightly better than being _giggled_ at. He usually enjoys any sound that lets him know Harry is happy and enjoying himself but it's rather annoying when it's at _his_ expense. "I'm standing here, naked as you and you're still going on about the sodding laundry?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

"Well…uh…" Harry trails off, well aware of the answer Draco wants to hear. "No, I don't give a shit about the stupid laundry." He drapes his arms over Draco's shoulders and nips at his neck. "Now what?" he asks, working his mouth along Draco's neck, humming into the warm skin as it broke into pleasured goosebumps. He rolls his lips over another indignant shriek when he's lifted from the now-warmed metal and his arse hits the cool metal. Again. He arches enough to get a hand in and rub at the chilled area. "Ugh," he whines, wiggling his hips a bit as his arse sticks. "Wait, are you- No."

Draco pulls back, brows pinched in confusion. "No, what?" he asks, stunned Harry would refuse him. He never does! He's even talked the man into a quick shag in one of the cramped loos at the Burrow.

"No, we're not doing it here," Harry specifies and fights the urge to cross his arms over his chest and pout like a child. He rolls his eyes when Draco goes to argue. "First, it's cramped. Second, no lube. Last, this thing is cold!"

Draco snorts and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, smirking smugly when Harry wiggles against him with a soft needy sound in the back of his throat. Like he could really mean 'no'... "It's not cramped, it's cozy," he purrs, letting his hands slide down to knead Harry's arse. He chuckles when Harry makes that needy sound again and arches against like an overly affectionate cat. "And it's warming up..." he trails off, noticing the cool metal was now quite comfortably warm."

"But-"

Draco shushes Harry with a kiss, letting his fingers flutter over his chest and sides, smiling when Harry shivers and presses into him again. "I'm still amazed you completely forget you're a sodding wizard, love."

"Right," Harry says, feeling his cheeks heat. Lube basically came out of thin air with the way they practice the charm. He can do it wordlessly _and_ wandlessly, which never fails to turn Draco on. The power hungry egomaniac. "Right," he says again, scootching forward when he feels Draco's hands on his hips, his thumbs caressing the sensitive crease. Oh bugger, he's seriously going to allow Draco to bugger him senseless on their sodding washing machine. He pulls away from the kiss just enough to be heard, "Draco."

Draco hums, kissing a trail down Harry's neck and shoulder as his hands slide under his arse. "Hmm?"

"If you break this thing, I want the shiny red one. With all the buttons..."

Draco laughs, "Sure thing, sweetheart," he simpers. He means it though, he doesn't give a shit what sort of Muggle machine Harry wants; he'd get him whatever his heart desires. Not that he'd admit such sappy thoughts aloud. He focuses back on his task, pulling Harry closer to the edge so he can have easier access. "Merlin," he breathes, somehow still amazed and completely undone by the firm, slick, warmth that is Harry. He grits his teeth when he hears Harry giggle, apparently well aware of the direction of his thoughts. He doesn't mind, per se, but it's hard to concentrate. He shuts Harry up with another kiss, tangling one hand in his hair and pulling _just so_, just how Harry likes and makes the man go limp with a happy little sigh of pleasure.

Damn right, Draco muses as he goes back on task. Not that it's a job; it's a very happily done hobby, if anything, and he could spend hours reducing Harry into a puddle of goo. Not that he's ever given that long. Harry gets quite demanding after a certain point. He runs his free hand all over Harry's body, briefly flicking one pebbled nipple before sliding back down to caress one trembling thigh. He enjoys the soft gasping moans as he works Harry open and urges Harry's legs around him. He gives a quiet grunting moan at the exquisite feel of those legs wrapped around him; utterly perfect, really.

"Draco," Harry says, reaching down and trying to bat Draco's dextrous, wonderful, talented hand away. "Go," he demands.

Draco smirks and nods, quite used to Harry's demanding ways. He raises an eyebrow and glances down at his cock, shivering with a grunt when he feels Harry's magic whisper over him and leave him perfectly slick. Fuck, that's hot. He doesn't pause, not wanting an irate Harry to take matters into his own hands, and slowly eases himself into his wonderful fiance. He refuses to go fast, rushing and possibly hurting the other man and he takes a certain amount of pride (and personal sense of pleasure) at the slow glide that always has Harry mindless and writhing by the time he's done. A slow circling of hips and he continues.

Harry tries not to think about the fact that he's on top of a washer, instead focusing on the mind-numbing pleasure shooting through his body. He holds on when he senses Draco getting ready for the thorough part of the shagging and happily wraps himself around the blonde, thankful he's scootched up enough to not smack his head or get his back smashed up against the machine. Their pants/moans/whispered names, the rhythmic metallic clanging sound of their movements denting the surface, and the washer itself chugging away and shifting on the floor, is almost as good as the tinny WWN being on in the background. He's aware he's babbling and moaning, the angle and height the washer has him placed at is damn near perfect for Draco to just grip his thighs and go. Merlin, they need to do this again, he blearily thinks as everything tightens in that painful-pleasure way. They're both moaning into each other's mouths with sloppy kisses in the way that's only passionate, affectionate and erotic at the same time when you're brain is melted from an orgasm.

"We need to do this again," Harry pants out, his voice slightly muffled by Draco's chest. He has no desire to move yet, still quite enjoying the feeling of Draco full, slick and warm inside him. He feels Draco shrug and nuzzles in closer, his arms and legs tightening around the softly panting blonde.

"Did we break it?" Draco asks a few moments later.

Harry shrugs. Even if they did, he's not replacing this washer.

Ever.


End file.
